Renaissance
by Celtic Silver
Summary: * Renaissance... is over. I made oaths, I swore to myself that I would finish this by the second of July, 2017. That oath has been broken. I cannot finish something for which I have lost my passion. It does injustice to this story, to myself, and to each and every single person who has clicked this. It remains as I delete all my other stories, as a reminder. No more oaths broken. *
1. Obligitory First Chapter

**Oh hey! So, this is the debut of the new Renaissance. I originally called it that because Renaissance is defined as a rebirth in art or literature, which this kind of is for me, because I'm changing the way I do Fanfiction with this story. The _Story_ is _Renaissance_ because it represents a rebirth-of-sorts in the wizarding world. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

 **And (although I've never actually done this before), Disclaimer:**

 _ **Celtic Silver does not own Harry Potter, and most likely never will. I'll keep you updated on that. I **_**do** _ **own a Pygmy Puff and a Wand, though.**_

* * *

By the time the owl crashed into her kitchen window, Sasha was already having a rotten morning. She'd woken up at five in the morning and not been able to sleep, forced to weed the garden in the already warm morning sun, and dropped and ruined her breakfast by tripping over the dog, agonizing _inches_ from the safety of the dining room table. Which was _not_ her fault.

Sighing, she mentally cursed the animal, turning him into the backyard, and turned back to the kitchen with a frown. Usually, her parents would have left her _something,_ even if it was only a single boiled egg _._ However, they had both left the house in the wee hours of the day (said disturbance being the very reason for her rather rude awakening).

"I should have stayed in bed," the irate eleven year-old lamented, glancing out the window to see the usually hyperactive Australian Shepherd making herself comfortable on a lawn chair. But it was too late now, and Sasha strongly suspected that both she and the dog knew it.

Slowly, she sank back into her chair, which wobbled slightly. The heat of the July day was already seeping through the comfortable two-story house, even with the windows tightly shut and the air conditioner on full blast.

Sasha turned to face the mirror on the wall at her shoulder, directly beneath the old-fashioned wall clock. Her face was flushed from the heat, her almond-shaped amber eyes sunken from lack of sleep. She was on holiday, it wasn't as if she was in bed at ten sharp. It was a good thing she wasn't scheduled to actually start caring about her appearance for several years, since she could genuinely say she looked horrible.

Closing her eyes and stretching, Sasha didn't notice the large bird until she was startled into opening her eyes at the sound, and Bluebell leapt up with a fierce bark. She leapt up from her chair in surprise, racing to the window to stare down at the owl in surprise. Even without knowledge of birds, it was easily identifiable as a barn owl with it's pure white face.

She realized, however, that she'd neglected to hold back the dog, a ball of mottled gray and black fur that came hurtling around the house at full speed.

"Bluebell!" She snapped. "Sit!" Thankfully, the dog was naturally obedient, sliding to a stop and sitting still, even though her blue eyes remained fixed on the bird. For good measure, Sasha added a "stay!", before rushing out the back door, across the back porch, and back to the window, where Bluebell thankfully hadn't moved.

The bird had been lying prone until that moment, but when it dazedly noticed her, the owl gave an odd jerking motion, folding it's wings and standing straight. It stared at her with black eyes, which could have easily seemed reproachful. The bird stuck out a leg, and she noticed the letter tied to it.

With hesitant fingers, Sasha undid the bindings. She attempted to stroke the bird's feathers as at least a partial apology, but it pecked at her fingers. Awkwardly, it hopped on taloned feet to a bush, taking off from a low-hanging branch and fleeing perhaps unnecessarily quickly.

Sahsa frowned after it, shading her eyes from the sun until it was simply a dot to the east. With a sigh, she turned back to Bluebell, who sat patiently looking up at her. "C'mon girl. Let's go pretend that didn't just happen."

* * *

Sasha's eyes strayed once again to the owl's letter, which she'd left on the coffee table without looking at who it had been addressed to. Chastising herself under her breath, she reached out, flipping the heavy parchment envelope over in one quick motion.

 _ **Sasha A. Raley  
**_ _ **The Bedroom in the Northeast Corner**_

That was followed by the house's address, but Sasha was more-focused on how the letter was addressed directly to her bedroom. What kind of people were these, sending letters by owl and knowing which bedroom she slept in? Muttering under her breath, Sasha tore the parchment, noticing the wax crest stamped on the back, and drew out two sheets of paper.

 _ **HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**_ _ **  
** **Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall**_

 _ **Dear Ms. Raley,**_ _**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**_

 _ **Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.**_

 _ **Yours sincerely,**_

 _ **Fillius Flitwick**_  
 _ **Deputy Headmaster**_

Sasha blinked twice, but all the words were still right there on the page. And then, she laughed, rereading the entire thing. A school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of _course_. More likely, this was a prank at the hands of her cousin Lance, who worked with owls. He _would_ do something like this.

Chuckling, she turned to the next page.

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY**

 **UNIFORM**

 **First-year students will require:**  
 **1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) **

**Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.**

 **COURSE BOOKS**

 **All students should have a copy of each of the following:**

Sasha read on, chuckling at the names of several of the books and smiling at the list of other equipment. Turning to Bluebell, stretched out in the sun, she commented to no one in particular, "well, if Bluebell can't come, I'm not going!"

What kind of an idea was this? Not a bad joke, certainly; she was half-tempted to write out several copies of her own and mail them to her neighbors.

Bluebell gave a pant that sounded a bit like a laugh, and Sasha grinned at the dog. _If I have magic, Bluebell will stand up and come to me right now. Abracadabra._ The dog did not move. Of course not.

However, that didn't stop the plants. While she watched, eyes steadily widening, what looked first like a blade of grass penetrated the carpet next to her left foot, lengthening and bending as hanging blue flowers bloomed in seconds.

"What?"

But the flowers weren't done yet; more bluebells erupted from the carpet. They weren't much taller than her knees, but the sheer number were astounding, turning into a new carpet before her very eyes. Bluebell abandoned her sunny window, jumping up onto the sofa and relative safety. The flowers hadn't extended beyond the parlor, and the rest of the floor remained wood.

"Ahh..." Sasha groaned, slouching in her armchair. "I think I feel a headache coming on."

* * *

"Sasha!" Her mother called half an hour later, stepping through the front door with her face conveniently blocked by a bag of groceries.

"Yes?" She asked hesitantly, standing up from where she'd been crouched, picking flowers in vain as if somehow believing she could get rid of them all.

"Could you go out and help with the groceries?" Sasha sighed in relief, hurdling over the couch in her hurry and disappearing through the garage door moments before her mother turned around. Her shriek rattled the windowpanes.

Counting to five mentally, the girl opened the door, only to be eye to eye with her mother, whose face had turned bright red. "Hello, Mum." She gulped. "Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" Sasha would have sworn that there was steam coming from her mother's ears, as she grabbed her daughter by the shoulder and yanking her inside, paying no mind to the bag of groceries in her daughter's arms. She frog marched her through the kitchen, still carrying her armful of what smelled like raw fish, and straight to the parlor, as if Sasha didn't know exactly what she was talking about.

From her refuge on the sofa, Bluebell looked up and wagged her tail happily.

Her mother groaned. "Sasha, when I told you to take up a hobby and suggested gardening, I _didn't_ mean inside our house."

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Sasha complained. "It was after I got the letter."

"What letter?"

"That one." She pointed to where she had left the pieces of parchment on the table, stepping on several of the plants to grab it before handing it to her mother. "It was addressed to my bedroom, but I got it when an owl slammed into a window."

 _I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy, I'm not cr-_

"That's crazy!" Her mother declared, looking over the two pieces of parchment. "So you decided to recarpet the parlor with bluebells?"

"No! At least, I didn't do it on _purpose_."

"Not on purpose? How was this an accident?"

"I was trying to get Bluebell," she scratched the dog's head for emphasis, "to come to me with "magic", and then this happened!"

Judging by her mother's expression, Sasha guessed she was thinking something along the lines of "I will not panic, I will not panic, I will _not_ panic!" Instead, in a slightly strangled voice, she said, "we'll wait for your father."

* * *

Matthew Raley dropped the parchment on the kitchen table with a rather unsatisfying plop. After a moment, his daughter leaned closer. "Dad? Are you...okay?"

He blinked. "I'm...not as shocked as you and your mother."

Sasha frowned critically, wondering if perhaps the pollen from the many flowers was numbing her senses. "Why?"

Sighing, Matthew carefully folded up the letter, handing it back to her and taking a long gulp of the glass of water at his elbow before replying. "My great-grandfather was like you, at least that's what grandfather told me. He didn't inherit the gift, you see, but his father was always doing magic."

"I don't get it." Said Sasha, raising her hand. "Can you tell me anything?"

"Not much. Just that it's not safe for you to have magic without being taught properly, and that you'll be considered Muggleborn."

"Muggle?"

"Not wizarding people, normal humans."

Sasha folded her hands. "So, this really isn't a joke?" Matthew shook his head. "And I really have to go to wizarding school?" Nod. "And I need a wand? Where do I even get that?"

* * *

 **Okay, next chapter will be Diagon Alley, where Sasha finds out exactly _where to get that_ , haha. ****We may even have a Weasley cameo.**

 **No review replies this chapter, because...Duh.**

 ***Random Fact of the Day: While I was name hunting like the crazy person I am, I considered both Athena and Raley as Sasha's first name. Her official name, however, is now Sasha Athena Raley***

 **See ya!  
** **~Cel**

 **(363 days to go)**


	2. That God-Awful Cauldron!

**Yo, chapter two! It strikes me as a bit stubby, but that's okay, since...**

 _ **This is part of a two part update, next chapter with the Hogwarts express is posted on the same day (And actually was written first)! Enjoy!**_

* * *

It had taken a full five minutes for Sasha's parents to believe her that they were, in fact, standing for a pub. Matthew and Emily had stood staring at the supposedly-empty space between the book and record stores, thinking their daughter was hallucinating. It was only when the girl took her father's hand and led him through the door that they'd realized _The Leaky Cauldron_ was an actual place.

But, now that she was facing a simple brick wall, Sasha frowned critically. Was this supposed to be some sort of joke? Of course, the last time she'd thought that, she'd turned their parlor into a flower garden. Supposedly, she was meant to tap a brick. But Tom the Barkeep hadn't told her much else, such as the all important information of which brick that was.

Slowly, she drummed her fingers against the stones one at a time, working her way up. After finding one not far from the trash can to the side, the brick wall suddenly fell away, folding in on itself to reveal a long street, full of shops on each side.

So, maybe not a joke.

Her amber eyes widened, taking in the owls in the windows of one shop, the sparks flying from the top of a golden cauldron at the door of another, even a broomstick flying completely on it's own.

"Where to first?" Emily asked, straightening after a moment.

Sasha's eyes brightened, as she led the way. "How about there?" Her parents chuckled behind her, following her inside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

Studying the chalkboard that listed different ice-creams and prices, Matthew frowned. "Sickles? Knuts?"

Sasha eyed the sign rather skeptically. "What's a Sickle?"

The man before the counter, who appeared to be in his early twenties, turned to her with a curious smile. "Muggleborn?" When she nodded, he went on to say, "Sickles, Galleons, and Knuts are coins, you can exchange your muggle money for them at Gringotts." He gestured out the window at an imposing snow white marble building.

"Thanks, Mr. Fortescue," Sasha answered, trying to be polite.

He grinned. "Felix, please. Mr. Fortescue was my father, I'm not that old!" He called after them when they left, "and come back after when you've got your Sickles!"

* * *

Sasha and Emily waited outside of Gringotts for Matthew, who had insisted on handling all things associated with money. He emerged looking mildly shell-shocked, wordlessly offering Sasha a drawstring bag, which she opened to find it full of gold, silver, and bronze coins.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked, noticing that her husband seemed unfocussed.

Taking a deep breath, he answered, "Goblins, in the bank."

Chuckling, Sasha grinned. "Why, I didn't realize you were so afraid of goblins, father. What about trolls, afraid of them as well? Don't worry, we'll be sure to avoid crossing any bridges just in case. Sorry, sorry!" The last was from her mother swatting at her.

"Sweetie, don't make fun of your father."

 _But he makes it so easy._ Aloud, she answered; "I said I was sorry."

Emily nodded primly. "Right. We'll go buy your clothes and spell books, you can handle the," she frowned, " _other equipment_."

Raising her hand cheekily, Sasha said, "what about a pet? It says here," she waved the letter around rather emphatically, "that I can bring an owl, _or_ a cat, _or_ a toad."

"You can't have a toad," Emily smirked. "They're wrinkly; it'd probably look too much like a goblin for your father. And an owl would come in and out of the house at all hours of the night, and leave rodents and pellets all over the place. Why don't you get a cat? I know you've wanted another one since Iris died."

Nodding and grinning happily, Sasha turned away. It was true, she had wanted a cat since their old gray tabby had died two years before.

It was quite different to take a stroll down Diagon Alley completely on her own. She gazed in awe at the odd little things on her own, rather than with commentary from either Matthew or Emily, until she managed to barely avoid tripping on a loose cobblestone and avoid crashing into an outrageously bright purple and orange building, with _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ written over a wide, arched doorway.

The red-haired man in the window glanced up, his mischievous grin hinting at everything that could be found in this shop, before returning to placing small pink and purple balls of fluff inside what appeared to be a bird cage. Sasha waved awkwardly, turning to lean against the purple wall. Maybe this would be a fun place to come visit. Later. With reinforcements.

Instead, Sasha wandered into a shop selling cauldrons and potion ingredients, including powdered unicorn horn, newt's eyes, and some kind of plant that wrapped around her when she stood still for too long.

 _Perhaps it would have been a better idea to buy the cauldron last,_ Sasha commented dryly, leaning back as she wrapped both arms around the oversized metal pot, muscles straining with effort. Well, at least she could put her other things in it; the cauldron now contained phials, a telescope, and a brass scale.

Any place that had been in business since 382 BC must have been doing something right. It was only that that led Sasha to put in the effort to maneuver her heavy load through the door of _Ollivanders_ in the first place. Depositing it next to the door, she hesitantly stepped forward and rang the bell on the counter. Within moments, a small man with white hair and pale silver eyes appeared from what _might_ have been nowhere.

"Err, _hello_..." Sasha greeted somewhat awkwardly, leaning against the wall and attempting to appear as though this hadn't been one of the oddest days of her life so far.

"Come here, my dear, into the light, no need to be shy." He invited her forward, and she-somewhat reluctantly-left her place on the wall to stand before him. "Muggleborn?" Sasha nodded. "No need to worry; many great witches and wizards have been born from muggles, even Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age. She got her first wand here, you know. Vine, dragon heartstring, 10 and three-quarter inches."

Sasha nodded along, patiently waiting until he had finished his sentence.

"Well," he said finally, pulling a tape measure from his pocket. "Your wand arm?" After a slight hesitation on her part, Sasha finally told him she was left-handed, and he took to measuring, telling her as he went about the cores of Ollivander's wands, before abruptly leaving the tape measure-which continued to move on it's own-to rummage around a collection of long boxes, selecting one between two fingers. "Enough." He ordered, and the measure abruptly flew up to the counter, lifeless once again.

"Ebony and unicorn hair, 8 1/2 inches, I once tried this one on Harry Potter himself, you know, but he didn't suit it. Maybe you will."

By the time Sasha had accepted it in her left-hand, Mr. Ollivander was already shaking his head and racing off in search of a different box.

"Well now," he said finally, eyeing the small pile of what could easily have been kindling on the counter, "let's try something more unusual."

 _More unusual than this whole day?_ Sasha thought doubtfully, but listened dutifully as he produced yet another box. "Willow, dragon heartstring, 14 and a half inches. Not a common match."

Knowing the drill, Sasha nodded, accepting it as warmth seeped through her fingers from where they gripped the wood, and Ollivander jumped up and down rather gleefully.

"That's the one!"

After paying seven galleons and being assisted with her cauldron, Sasha leaned her back against the wall and breathed a deep sigh of relief. How could finding the right _twig_ be so exhausting?

She cheered up as Matthew and Emily approached from closer to the entrance, realizing that there was still one last thing to get; her cat.

Entrusting her cauldron of supplies to her parents, Sasha headed towards the Magical Menagerie, already feeling freer without that god-awful pot to carry everywhere.

The inside of the store was quite cramped and noisy, filled to the brim with cats, rats, owls, toads, and most everything in between. A small cage of kittens off to the side caught her attention, and she found herself staring into the yellow eyes of a gray tabby, and saying "that one, please" to the shopkeeper, before she even realized what she was saying.

Emerging from the shop with the kitten draped over her shoulders, she turned to Matthew and Emily with a grin, the golden locks around her face glowing in the setting sun as she asked with an air of innocence, "ice cream, then?"

* * *

 **Thank you very much to everyone who has reviewed (or PM'd, in some cases)-and geez, 21 reviews? _What?!_ _-_ Followed (Twelve), and Favorited (Six). Seriously, thank you _so much! It's such an inspiration!_**

 **More Author notes (eh, who am I kidding, more _crazy!)_ next chapter!  
~Celtic**

 **And grr, this still seems very similar to the original book, doesn't it? Don't worry, we'll get past that soon enough.**

* * *

 **And yes, I do have a specific list of reasons for all the parts of Sasha's wand.**

 **Willow Wood- Well, first of all, it corresponds to her birthday (May 10th) on the Celtic calendar. J.K. Used it for giving wands, and it's the _Celtic_ Calendar *cough*. Willow is known for its healing power, and with the flowers, I think we've already established that Sasha is a grower and nurturer, if not to people. They also suit those with insecurity and potential, which, considering where Sasha's going, are very fitting. **

**Dragon Heartstring- They learn quickly, which might help Sasha, and they bond strongly with their current owner. They can also be more easily turned towards the dark arts, though they are not inclined that way on their own, which could possibly be seen as foreshadowing...**

 **14 1/2 Inches- Fairly long, but not overly so. Neater wands favor refined spells, where longer wands tend to represent large personality.**

 **Reasonably Springy- Rigidity represents the willingness of a wand's owner to accept and adapt to change. Sasha is somewhat accepting of change, and adaptable, but she's not one to give in or bend by the will of others.**

 ***Sasha's experience at getting a wand based on Harry's in _The Sorcerer's Stone_ , and mine at _Universal Studios: Hollywood_ ***


	3. Bricks and Flowers (What Else?)

**Okay, first of all, if you haven't read about Sasha's time in Diagon Alley, back up! You're missing half of today's update, which was a double header. If you _have_ read it, carry on!**

* * *

For about the next month, Sasha spent most of her time attempting not to do any more accidental magic, and grow any more plants. As a weekend project, she and her parents had spent two whole days attempting to pull up the bluebells, but it did no good; more plants simply kept popping up. Eventually, Matthew gave up and hired a landscaper to come look. He returned two days later with a massive spray bottle of weed killer. The flowers grew a bit less enthusiastically after that, but they certainly weren't eradicated.

As for her parents...

Emily seemed to be exploding with pride at having a witch for a daughter. Sasha guessed she would have mentioned it to all the neighbors if she hadn't been afraid of being carted off to an asylum. As it was, she had come uncomfortable close to having a _"my daughter is a witch"_ bumper sticker on her car.

Matthew, while just as proud, was taking a considerably more conservative approach, which Sasha was quite thankful for. She also got the idea that, as proud as he was, he wished he had the gift. He seemed to cope well, however, channeling whatever he might have thought on the matter into the continued effort of removing the flowers.

As for Bluebell, it was generally assumed she was fairly happy as well, if a bit annoyed by Ivan the kitten. As for Sasha's new cat, he seemed quite happy living in the house, though he once left a mouse on the doorstep and sat next to it for four hours waiting for praise.

* * *

The morning of Saturday, September 1st dawned bright and early. And so it was a grumbling, irritated eleven year-old girl that rose with it, remaining beneath a thin sheet until Ivan jumped up and sat on her stomach.

"Gedof," she muttered unintelligibly, glaring the cat in his yellow eyes until he gave an uninterested mew and jumped down, settling instead on her school trunk.

Without breakfast-which she was too excited to eat-there was nothing to distract her from her excitement, so Sasha settled for pacing back and forth, until she noticed that flowers were starting to grow in her steps.

Two and a half hours later-after making sure her door was tightly shut and sealed, Sasha stood facing brick column, crossing her eyes considering. With a number nine on one side, and a number ten on the other this would be precisely where platform 9 3/4 should have been. So naturally, there was nothing.

Sighing, she turned back to her parents, leaning her shoulder against the column. "Maybe we should try-" Sasha yelped in surprise as she fell through the bricks completely, falling flat on her back on a crowded train platform before a scarlet red engine.

What more could this "Hogwarts" teach her? Since she'd learned about magic, she'd already mastered gardening and how to spontaneously make brick walls dissolve. What else did she need?

After a moment, Matthew stepped through the wall as well, with Emily not far behind, pushing her school trunk. "Alright?"

"Fine, fine." Sasha waved them off, brushing a long strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. "I guess we found the platform." She jumped up, having after all said she was alright, and surveyed the red steam engine. Several train compartments were already packed, with more students boarding all the time.

"Well..." Matthew trailed off, noticeably uncomfortable now that he was standing in a place that by all rights shouldn't have existed, dressed in a suit and tie like any normal commuter, and saying goodbye to his only child for the next four months.

Sasha grinned, hauling both parents into a surprisingly strong hug. "I'll be fine, really. Promise."

"Alright, off you get." With a gentle push, Matthew stepped back through the column and vanished. If she hadn't known better, Sasha almost would have thought he was crying. Emily said nothing, but winked at her as she followed her husband. And then they were gone.

Sasha turned away after a long moment, only to be forced to abruptly duck to avoid a collision. It wasn't hard; the boy must have been close to six feet tall. She opened her mouth to apologize, but finally took in the scars that most likely covered his entire body, including his face (which, supposedly, would otherwise have been quite attractive). After a moment, she blinked, muttering a quick "sorry" before hurrying on, a faint blush dancing across her face.

Selecting an empty compartment close to the middle of the train, Sasha hauled up first Ivan in his cage, followed by-with a fair amount of difficulty on her part-her trunk. Really, she was quite pleased at not getting any assistance with it, though that may have simply been her concern at meeting anyone else too soon. Look at what had happened barely five minutes before.

Before long, the parents and younger siblings on the platform fell away as the train began to move, flashing around a corner.

"Well," she said aloud to Ivan, whose cage was placed on the seat opposite. He gave her look of absolute disinterest, but it wasn't exactly as if he could just stop listening. "There's no need to be so contemptuous, you know, even if you _have_ been in this world longer than I have. You're a _cat_ , for goodness sakes. Stop giving me those looks."

Ivan did not look particularly impressed.

Sasha groaned. "I've known about this world for a month, and I'm _arguing_ with a cat. I must be losing my marbles."

"I'd agree," said a girl's voice from outside the compartment. "Talking to animals, or to yourself for that matter, is usually seen as a sign that it's time for a trip to St. Mungo's."

Sasha looked up in surprise, taking in the form of a (very short) girl, with head of pale blonde curls. Perhaps even more striking than her height, however, was her eyes. Sasha first observed the left, a warm brown, before the girl abruptly turned her head, displaying the cold jade green on the right. "Lizette Mordini." She offered finally, holding out a hand.

Holding on the girl's fingers, she answered, "Sasha Raley." After a moment, she added, "and what's St. Mungo's?"

Lizette blinked. "Are you not from England? Most of the children in magical families have been to St. Mungo's for something or other by the time they start Hogwarts. St. Mungo's is a hospital for magical injuries."

"No, I'm from London. But my parents aren't magical; they're muggles."

Having seemed to relaxed slightly, Lizette stiffened, her eyes unreadable. "I'm sorry," she said stiffly, "I have to go." She turned away from the compartment abruptly, leaving an amazed Sasha staring after her.

After a moment, the girl turned back to Ivan. "Not a word."

* * *

Hours later, Sasha pulled her robes over her head, pushing her head, hair even messier than usual, just in time to catch sight of an imposing stone castle, standing over a dark lake. _Fit for a king,_ she commented mentally, attempting to use her translucent reflection in the window to make her hair acceptable, at the very least.

Ivan, who had been let out of his cage, jumped up to balance narrowly on the window ledge, examining his own reflection.

She was truly starting to think the cat was mocking her.

Soon after, the Hogwarts Express slid to a smooth stop, and Sasha, leaving all luggage-including a very annoyed Ivan-behind as she had been instructed five minutes before, pushed her way through the crowd of other students to meet what was easily the largest man she had ever seen, over eleven feet tall. He held a lamp over his head and seemed to be calling for first years.

When he was satisfied, the giant man-who introduced himself as Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher-led them down an extremely steep path surrounded by thick trees.

"Now," Hagrid turned, swinging his lamp in one hand, "jus' round this bend here, yeh'll catch sight o' Hogwarts." And so they did, as the castle once again came into sight, from where they stood on the edge of the dark lake. "No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid added, and Sasha noticed the boats floating near the shore.

Sasha was joined in the boat she quickly claimed for herself by two other girls, and the little boats departed the shoreline on their own at Hagrid's command.

Spotting Lizette in another boat, Sasha was spitefully tempted to wave at her.

The boats drifted through a curtain of ivy to an underground harbor, where they climbed out onto a hidden beach of pebbles, from which Hagrid directed them up a flight of stone steps.

"Everyone here?"

All the students gave the affirmative, and Hagrid knocked at the door. It flew open, and they were greeted with a very short man with brown hair and glasses.

"The firs' years, Filius." Said Hagrid, winking at the small man, who smiled. _Filius..._ was this Filius Flitwick, deputy headmaster of Hogwarts? I seemed so.

"Thank you, Hagrid." And with that, Flitwick stepped out of the doorway, gesturing for the first years to step into the castle.

* * *

 **Characters used in this Chapter:**

 ** _Warren Monger_ ( _W. R. Winters_ )**

 _ **Lizette Mordini (Fairy Lori)**_

* * *

 _ **So, I feel the need to tell you what Sasha looks like specifically, since it's not like you're going to see a form for her. Sasha is almost exactly five feet tall, with a slim build and small feet. Her hair is golden blond, almost perfectly straight, and falls almost to her elbows, though it's usually a bit messy, and she has almond-shaped amber eyes. Sasha also has tanned skin and freckles, though they're a bit hard to see.**_

 **Again, even though this was stated last chapter, THANK YOU so much for all the support this has already gotten!**

 **21 reviews**

 **6 favorites**

 **12 follows**

 **I'm kind of in awe, actually. But thanks.**

 **See ya next chapter for the sorting! Oh yeah, that reminds me. This is your last chapter to submit, after this we're closing up shop until next year (second year, not 2017). There it is, in black and white. Now you absolutely _cannot_ claim I didn't warn you. **

***And while I do love the characters I've gotten so far, some of them seem a bit more generic, and they all seem way too happy to be friends with Sasha. That's fine, but can I please have some more antagonistic personalities? Please? And some Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws? I think I may be suffering a Slytherin Boy overdose (which, for a Slytherin female such as myself, is...interesting to say) Thank ya.**

 **Thank you, guys. Love Ya!** ❤ **(NO, not that way! Haha)  
~Cel **

***361 Days to go until deadline***


	4. Out of Sorts

**You all know what's going to happen this chapter!**

 **There's going to be trouble! People are going to be crazy! You might even say it's going the be out of _...Sorts..._**

 **Okay, I'm sorry! That wasn't funny! (Actually, I thought it was sort of funny). And _this_ is why I don't talk much in school. Go on, read it; don't look at me! And tell me if you spot your character, because I tried to fit as many as I could-which really wasn't as many as I hoped-without it really just becoming one giant list. Don't worry, the others will make appearances soon. *and yes, the Sorting Hat's song is recycled***

* * *

Professor Flitwick guided Sasha and the rest of the...what was the word? _First years_? Professor Flitwick guided the first years across a stone floor, showing them into an empty chamber which, judging by the noise, Sasha assumed to be the great hall. The students were pressed unusually close together, looking like a single giant beast with many arms, legs, and eyes.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" While perhaps slightly squeaky-which was more than fair given his height-Flitwick's voice was kind and cheerful, and Sasha found herself grinning. "The banquet will begin shortly, but you'll be sorted into your houses before you can go join a table. The Sorting will be a very important part of your life for the next seven years, because your housemates will become like your family. You will have classes together, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend time together in your common room."

 _Now, that doesn't sound so bad._

If anything, Sasha's smile became wider-and more genuine. Really, it seemed like all her housemates would become like her siblings, something Sasha had wanted since she had been old enough to want to play hide-and-seek, and had no one to play it with.

Having Iris, the old cat, and later Bluebell, had helped alleviate the loneliness some, but then it had only felt worse after Iris's death two years before.

Unfortunately, a cat just didn't have the same lifespan as a human child.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin," Flitwick went on, and Sasha tore her thoughts away from her beloved old pet. "Each has a noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards, all of whom one stood where you are now." He offered them a smile and a not, before continuing. "While you are here, your triumphs," his voice seemed a bit squeakier than it had so far, "will earn you house points, whereas any rule breaking will result in lost points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be able to boast it's victory for the next year. As deputy headmaster, I hope and expect you to be a credit to whatever house is yours."

Yes, this professor, while small, could not be underestimated. Or, at the very least, he certainly knew how to deliver a good speech.

"The ceremony will take place in a few moments before the other students, some of whom will soon be the closest to family you have in Hogwarts. I'll be back, when we are ready for you." Flitwick smiled and swept out of the room.

He seemed to take every ounce of comfort or warmth in the room with him, and Sasha suddenly found herself almost shaking with anxiety. She'd been involved in this world for over a month now, but she still wasn't sure about how she felt about being "sorted". It made them sound like fruit, or...Sasha really had no idea what sorts of things usually got "sorted", but she _did_ know that children probably didn't top the list. Being sorted sounded almost _painful._

One of the children behind her shrieked-it _sounded_ like a girl, but Sasha knew there was perhaps a small chance that it was a boy. She spun on her heel as what appeared to be ghosts flowed through the wall behind them, a bit transparent put still very much there.

One or two of the ghosts called down at the students, and appeared to be attempting to offer advice about the houses. Before Sasha had the nerve to ask any about their thoughts on the houses, however, Flitwick reappeared, ushering them towards the noisy banquet and organizing them into a fairly-neat line. The boy in front of her was very tall, even taller than she was, and he was so thin that he looked like a plus-size twig with black hair.

The hall, with it's vaulted ceilings that reflected the night sky outside like a mirror, flickered with the flames of thousands of candles, floating above four long tables full of students, while a fifth table stood before the huge windows at the end of the hall. Those would be the teachers, Sasha suspected. And before this table, on a wobbly-looking four-legged stool, sat an old, dilapidated looking _hat._

For what seemed like the eight-millionth time within that one month, Sasha wondered if perhaps this world of magic and wizards was playing a joke on her. A hat? How could pulling out a live dove help to sort children? That was like saying doing card-tricks would make one better at football.

A rip in the hat, near the brim, opened wide, and she momentarily guessed it would rip itself apart before it had to sort children-however it did that-for another year. However, the hat stayed in one piece, and proceeded to _sing._

 _A thousand years or more ago_  
 _When I was newly sewn,_  
 _There lived four wizards of renown,_  
 _Whose names are still well known:_

 _Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_  
 _Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_  
 _Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_  
 _Shrewd Slytherin, from fen._

 _They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_  
 _They hatched a daring plan_  
 _To educate young sorcerers_  
 _Thus Hogwarts School began._

 _Now each of these four founders_  
 _Formed their own house, for each_  
 _Did value different virtues_  
 _In the ones they had to teach._

 _By Gryffindor, the bravest were_  
 _Prized far beyond the rest;_  
 _For Ravenclaw, the cleverest_  
 _Would always be the best;_

 _For Hufflepuff, hard workers were_  
 _Most worthy of admission;_  
 _And power-hungry Slytherin_  
 _Loved those of great ambition._

 _While still alive they did divide_  
 _Their favourites from the throng,_  
 _Yet how to pick the worthy ones_  
 _When they were dead and gone?_

 _Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_  
 _He whipped me off his head_  
 _The founders put some brains in me_  
 _So I could choose instead!_

 _Now slip me snug about your ears,_  
 _I've never yet been wrong,_  
 _I'll have a look inside your mind_  
 _And tell where you belong!_

The whole hall, including the amazed first years, burst into applause, as the hat bowed to each table and then went still. The way the hat described it, Sasha supposed being "Sorted" didn't sound so bad, although the idea of a _hat_ peering into her mind was odd to say the least.

Professor Flitwick stepped forward with a scroll, his voice somehow amplified (and perhaps slightly less squeaky). "When I call your name, put on the hat and be seated on the stool to be sorted." He nodded, then read the first name. "Andreychenko, Kaito."

An extremely small boy-he had to have been around a foot shorter than the over-large twig in front of her-with sandy blonde hair that was almost as messy as her own stepped out of the line, taking surprisingly calm, easy steps to have a seat on the stool, where the professor gently placed the Sorting Hat atop his head.

A moment later, the hat bellowed, "SLYTHERIN", and Kaito went to join the table on the far right with a burst of applause. Soon after, a boy with blond hair named Alistair-though he would most likely experience the displeasure of Sasha's calling him "Alice", was seated across from him, after becoming Slytherin as well.

"Camden, Jackson", a black-haired boy a few inches shorter than Sasha, became a Ravenclaw to the cheers of the table at the center left, and when Magnolia Dupont became a Gryffindor, it was the table on the far left that applauded.

As it went on, Hufflepuff gained several new members, to match with the early start start the other three seemed to have gained. One of whom had unnaturally dark black eyes and black hair, very, very appropriately named Sable Cordel (except for the white cat who slunk along at his side).

Sasha's attention was regained at the sound of Lizette's name. She'd managed to pick up from the hat's song that perhaps Slytherin was a bit less open than the other houses, which drew her attention back to the other girl's surprising reaction to her blood status on the train. She must have been from one of those "pureblood" families.

And so, Sasha was fully expecting Lizette to be Slytherin. However, after several minutes, the hat instead opened it's mouth wide and bellowed, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Yells of surprise came from the Slytherin table, and Sasha assumed she had been correct in her guess. After a long moment, Lizette finally removed the hat from her head and went to join the table only one over from the one that could easily have been her own. Maybe it would do her good.

She didn't get much time to think of it, however, as it was nearly her turn. Suddenly, truly as if by magic, Sasha's stomach began to turn, and her left hand curled tightly around the handle of her wand within the sleeve of her robe.

"Raley, Sasha."

Pursing her lips and exhaling sharply, she steeled her nerves before stepping up to the stool and accepting the hat gently from Professor Flitwick. _Nothing to be nervous about, nothing to be nervous about. At the very least, I'm sure we've established you won't be Gryffindor; you're about as brave as a bucket of sand._

After a long, uncomfortably silent moment where she could have sworn half of Slytherin was laughing at her, Sasha plopped the hat rather unceremoniously atop her head.

 _"Hmmmm..."_ The hat hummed thoughtfully for a moment. _"Difficult, quite difficult. Much intelligence, plenty of bravery, when you find it necessary. Loyalty too, plenty of talent. But what's more, you desire deeply to prove yourself. You're wary, untrusting, but ambitious. This could be your world-if you could make it so."_

 _My world?_ Sasha mused silently about the truly intriguing words, for a moment. _My world._

 _"I see."_ The hat seemed amused. _"Yes indeed, ambition, cunning, capability. The path you walk with this decision may be difficult,"_ it warned. _"Should you make it, you won't be as you are now."_

Sasha, now dreading slightly what the hat seemed to have in mind, took a deep, soft breath, sure by now that her knuckles had gone white with how tightly she gripped her wand. But then, she nodded. _"Alright."_

 _"Maybe braver than you thought. Very well, it'll be_ SLYTHERIN!" The last word came at full volume, and she removed the hat far more gently from her head than when she had placed it there several minutes before. Softly, with quiet, quick steps, she moved to join her housemates, sitting between Alistair and an older boy with multiple piercings, barely registering when Julius Rookwood-the twig who had been in front of her-became a Ravenclaw.

But whispers seemed to be sweeping over the table-over all of them. Whispers of "muggleborn". And of "mudblood." With the last, she took in a deep sigh. It was too late to turn back now. She had made her choice.

 _It was hers to live with. And it was hers to die with._

* * *

 **Well, that ending seems mildly depressing to me, but I think it's okay. I'm happy to have been able to mention several of your characters, but I'm also sorry I couldn't include more of 'em. Don't worry, we'll see many more of them soon.**

 **I'm not sure how I handled the sorting, your thoughts?**

 **Well, thanks for reading, and thanks in advance ( _please? Haha)_ for reviewing. I assume it goes without saying that, _UNLESS YOU HAVE SPECIFICALLY MESSAGED ME AHEAD OF TIME OR I HAVE AGREED TO KEEP YOU A SPOT, THE SYOC IS NOW CLOSED UNTIL SECOND YEAR._ Clear? (And the people I agreed to save places for, you know who you are.) Good.**

 **Well anyway, thank you so much for all the support (31 reviews, HOLY FUDGE!).**

 **See ya soon,  
** **~Cel**

 ***358 Days to Go***


	5. The Last Day of Summer

**Been a bit, hasn't it? Story for ya below!**

 ***And yes, this was originally posted at about 3:00 yesterday morning, but I deleted it about ten minutes later 'cause I didn't like it, edited it, and here's the new version***

* * *

The term "Snake Pit" had never seemed quite so applicable as when Sasha first stepped through the gap in the stone wall into the tunnel that their prefect, Warren Monger-the scar-covered boy she'd nearly run into on the platform-had said would lead them to the Slytherin common room.

Her first clue that this was going to be a problem for her _should_ have been when the password to get past the stone wall into the common room turned out to be "pure-blood". As if that wasn't enough-which it should have been-the entire common room had the aura of a sunken shipwreck, which was hardly welcoming.

The entire room was full of green, everything from the lamps, to the chairs, to the water pressing against the long glass windows on the wall opposite, giving even the empty air a pale verdant tinge. It looked comfortable enough, in a grand, elegant sort of way, but something about it made her shudder. Somehow, Sasha had the feeling no other muggleborns had stepped in here in a very long time-if they ever had at all.

It almost made her want to go back and trade places with Lizette.

But of course she couldn't do that! And even if the hat, and the headmaster, and everyone else in the entire school said she could, she _absolutely couldn't_. She wasn't known for her bravery-the fact that she wasn't up in Gryffindor tower now proved that-but she couldn't back out now. It was her choice, and even if she wasn't brave, she was _certainly_ stubborn.

One of the other prefects, Melinda-something, directed the first year boys off to a corridor on the right, not far from the massive wall of windows, before doing the same for the girls to the left. While possessing a rather nasally voice, Melinda seemed fairly nice, though she eyed Sasha a bit oddly.

There were four girls in Sasha's first year dormitory, which seemed to prompt their nasally-voiced guide to suggest that they use the fifth and final bed as neutral territory, to study or talk. Perhaps Sasha might take her up on that suggestion eventually. But not yet.

Two of the girls, Regina Cerdic and Cora Osmand, clearly knew each other. They shared similar traits as well, with the similarly shaped faces and eyes, the only real difference being in their hair; Regina's was brown while Cora's was black. Sisters, or cousins perhaps? Their eyes seemed to have taken in the sight of Sasha, if their rather identical expressions of befuddlement and annoyance were anything to go by. After unpacking everything from their trunks, the pair vanished behind the curtains of one of the beds-Regina's, she thought-probably to gossip and braid each other's hair. Or whatever else sisters would do.

The only other girl in the room, who went by the name of Emily Stewart, didn't appear to be so unfriendly, even offering Sasha a smile that made her freckles easily noticeable. Even her _cat_ seemed nice, though Ivan didn't seem to be showing much interest in consorting with the black feline. At least she wasn't the _only_ one the gray tabby kitten seemed to look down upon.

With that oh-so cheerful thought, Sasha retreated to her bed, which had been chosen for it's strategic position off to the side, against the wall. After changing into comfortable shorts and a green cotton t-shirt advertising their fifth year production of _The Wizard of Oz,_ Sasha drew the curtains of the four poster on every side except for the one pressed against the wall. That made the bed appear more like a cave than anything else, which Ivan seemed to like, judging by the fact that he didn't look quite as judgmental as usual.

Leaning against the smooth wall with a sigh, she relaxed, out of sight of all the others. Perhaps she was overthinking this. It wasn't as if anyone had actually bothered to pull her aside and sneered or tried to hex her. Maybe this wasn't as bad as she thought.

But then, why would the hat have warned her how difficult it would be for her? A hat talking was one thing, but lying? And what would be the purpose? The Sorting hat clearly had better things to do than to cause her trouble.

"At least, that's the idea," she muttered aloud without really thinking about it.

"Mrrrow." Ivan put in, jumping down from where he'd been perched on the headboard to curl up at the foot of the bed instead.

"Alright, alright, quiet it is." Sasha answered, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Maybe Ivan was just in his teenage stage already, where he could be irritable one moment and then sweet the next. Plus, he certainly liked his sleep.

Chuckling softly-which earned her a rather disapproving glare-Sasha slipped beneath the sheets. They were smooth and slick, and cool, the way she might have imagined a snake's skin, but it was comfortable. As grand and imposing as it might have seemed, Slytherin wasn't bad. Hopefully the people would be the same.

* * *

Sunday breakfast at the Slytherin table was a rather interesting affair. To begin with, everyone seemed to be _quite_ insistent on passing everything from butter to fresh rolls from left to right. It also appeared that rather few of them were involved in the actual meal, taking in bites of eggs or toast between pages of the wizarding newspaper, _The Daily Prophet,_ or, in some cases, the occasional textbook.

When Sasha was curious enough to ask Regina (who sat to her left), to see the paper, she found that the pictures, while black and white like any other newspaper, moved, the same way all the paintings in the castle did.

She half-expected for _"SLYTHERIN ADMITS MUDBLOOD"_ to be emblazoned across the top of the front page in bold print, though in hindsight, that did seem rather big-headed. Shaking her head at the thought, she spent a long moment considering whether or not it would be acceptable to pass it right-to-left back to it's owner. After an uncertain moment, she simply placed it next to the other girl's butter knife.

Just as she was turning back to her toast, Sasha was distracted by the owls that suddenly came swooping in from above, depositing letters and packages among the students. Expecting and naturally receiving nothing, she took a moment to imagine her parents attempting to tie a letter to the leg of an owl; her mother's fear of birds and her father's apparent fear of goblins fit together quite well.

The sharp scent of mint off to her right caused her to turn her head, only to find Alistair, who sat there, opening a large bag of mint leaves, dropping several into a cup and adding boiling water to make tea. Noticing her watching as he popped one in his mouth, he said, "I'd offer you one, but I'm afraid I can't pass to the left," appearing rather amused.

Perhaps to some others, it might not have been something to laugh at (the older Slytherins seemed quite serious about it), but Sasha just grinned back, answering mock-cheerfully, "don't worry, I get it. I just hope I shall not perish for lack of a mint leaf to get me through the day."

The blond boy laughed, slipping her a leaf when he knew no one else was watching. This entire game was ridiculous, but Sasha accepted with a smile, almost feeling her face turning red with laughter. There was no point to this whatsoever, but she was keeping up a conversation that went on longer than a minute, which was certainly a good sign.

Without school to fill the rest of the day (why they had come out to Hogwarts on a Saturday, Sasha had no idea), she spent most of her time wandering the castle, doing her best to map out the ways to all her classes, though almost getting lost several times.

At one point, she managed to run-quite literally-into a fifth year Hufflepuff who stood eight or nine inches above her. However, he took it upon himself to apologize and guide her back to the great hall in time for lunch, on the way introducing himself as Bucky Hart (which he insisted upon being called, rather than using his actual name), a Hufflepuff prefect. Now that she thought of it, Sasha thought she could almost remember seeing him with Warren on the train platform the day before.

"Thanks," Sasha smiled, before moving to the Slytherin table on the far right. Her suspicions about his friendship with Warren proved to be correct, though, as he made an appearance not long after and Bucky turned to him.

After lunch-where the left-to-right rule was thankfully no longer in use-Sasha attempted to retreat back to the dungeons, to spend a few hours before dinner making sure she didn't come off as an absolute fool. However, she managed instead to slam directly into a smaller girl wearing Hufflepuff robes, staggering as the other girl fell.

"I'm sorry-" Sasha began, offering the short blond girl a hand up, then freezing as she met her heterochromatic eyes; one honey brown, the other a pale jade green. _Lizette._

"I'm sorry," she began again, retracting her hand as it was made quite clear that the Hufflepuff wouldn't be accepting her help anytime soon. Sasha frowned after Lizette's retreating back for a moment, before shaking her golden-blond head and slipping quietly down the steps to return to the common room, practically spitting the password at the blank wall, before sliding into the room and following the corridor to her dormitory.

Later that night, Sasha lay lengthwise across her bed, allowing her legs to dangle freely off the edge past the knees. Across the room, Regina and Cora had already both settled down for the night, the curtains firmly drawn, while Emily had yet to come in from the common room.

 _This is it,_ Sasha commented thoughtfully to herself, staring up at the heavy green fabric over her head, amber eyes narrowing as she stifled a yawn. _The last day of summer._

* * *

 **Eh, the ending... It's okay, I guess. But not great. I'm sorry, I wrote the original at like 3:00 AM, so...is it just me, or are my chapters getting shorter? Also, this feels like filler*growl***

 **Gah, introducing people is hard. It feels way to cut and paste, like I'm just going through and being like, "Hey, I wonder if she can meet *Blank* here, and then later she can maybe meet *Blank* here? Yay, go team!" Or something to that affect. So, I apologize if any characters-no matter how brief their appearances-seemed out of character.**

 **So, I was stupid(er than usual, whee, self-deprecating humor) and managed to accidentally set this back by deleting four hundred words. *sigh***

 **So anyway...it's been like a week, hasn't it? Geez. Sorry about that, longest gap we've had in this story so far. Although, it's really not that much. I've been working on a new collaboration with a bunch of friends over on Fictionpress, which is a large part of the reason I'm so behind on this (though I'm not blaming anyone except myself). We have a lot of them, they're hard to keep up with, but I'm here, so that's fun.**

 **See ya!  
** **~Celtic**

 ***349 days left***

 **New chapter already in the works!**


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